


Coping Mechanisms

by SunnyInOregon



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Death, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24651172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyInOregon/pseuds/SunnyInOregon
Summary: Reid having a difficult time getting past Emily’s death, learns a new way to cope from an unlikely source.This takes place after Emily's death and focuses on Spencer's inability to cope with her loss.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Coping Mechanisms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pandorabox82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorabox82/gifts), [Felena1971](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felena1971/gifts).



Lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, he’s given up all hope of sleeping this night. For the past week, he’s been lucky enough to garner a few hours each night, but tonight is different. A tickle in the back of his mind reminds him that there are things that would help him to forget. But he’s been down that hole, and he’s fought hard to crawl out of it. He doesn’t want to fall again.

He checks the time, three fifteen. If he showers, changes his clothes and makes a cup of coffee he can waste an hour, a thirty-minute drive if he takes a circuitous route and he will be at work. Five o’clock is a reasonable time to show up, isn’t it?

He rolls off the couch, grabs the books he left untouched and places them on the bookcase. He takes his time picking up the little bits of trash and tidying the room. He’s very meticulous, to the point where Rossi would classify him a mental patient. He glances at the unopened bottle of bourbon and the box of cigars sitting on the table.

This week had been an experiment of coping mechanisms. An effort to forget the pain of losing Emily, he had been trying his teammates different forms of coping.

“I have a couple of things that help me get through hard times,” Morgan boasted.

“Like what,” Reid asked curiously.

“Working out, breaking down walls and sex,” Morgan smiled.

Reid frowned. “What about dancing?”

Morgan chuckled. “Dancing is both a workout and a precursor to sex. You should try it sometime.”

“The dancing?”

“All of it.”

He tried working out, after fifteen minutes he was hot and sweaty – and miserable. He didn’t have any walls he could tear down. Dancing? He didn’t like putting himself on display like that. And sex was something he only engaged in with someone he felt close to and at the moment, he didn’t have anyone.

JJ had suggested yoga. She and Will did it together after the kids went to bed. If she was on a case, they would do it together over the phone.

He stopped at a bookstore on the way home one evening and perused the books on yoga. When he got home, he changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, then tried several different poses. After ten minutes, he found himself laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He continued to lay there thinking about all the different poses in the book, eventually he had drifted off to sleep.

Feeling inspired by the fact that he had slept, even if it was on the floor. He tried it again the next night, however, sleep evaded him this time. He wandered into work looking like a zombie. Stopping in the breakroom, he poured a cup of coffee, fixed it to his liking and chugged it. He was fixing his second cup when Garcia walked in and handed him a muffin.

“What’s this,” he asked.

“A muffin,” she replied blandly.

“What kind of muffin?” He sniffs it. “Banana nut? I love these.”

She grins at him. “I know. I made them for you.”

He peers at her. “You made these?”

“Whenever I get stressed, I bake. It helps me cope with whatever is happening in the world,” she confided. “And David doesn’t seem to mind me puttering around his kitchen. He has a great oven. Just the right height, so I don’t strain my back and it heats up like a dream.”

Reid smiled at her. “Thank you.”

So, he baked. Cookies, cakes, bread – nothing was outside of his realm. Once he looked at the recipe and started mixing ingredients, his mind would wander off to Emily again. His missed his friend. Her gentle teasing and the occasional laugh made his days brighter and he never got to say goodbye. It wasn’t fair. If only she had trusted them. If only she had opened up to them, they could have worked as a team. Individually, they were good, but as a team, they were unstoppable.

Apparently, he was a pretty good baker. He had taken his wares to the BAU and shared it with the other agents. Rossi had casually placed an arm around his shoulders and offered to back a venture in baking if Spencer was willing. He shook his head and told the older agent that this was just a hobby he was trying in order to cope with his loss. Rossi nodded somberly.

“I’ve always found solace in a glass of bourbon, a good cigar and the sounds of the rat pack,” Rossi told him.

“I don’t drink, smoke or listen to modern music,” Reid replied.

Rossi gave him a friendly smile. “To each his own. My offer is open if you change your mind about the bakery.”

“What about Penelope?”

“What about her,” Dave asked.

“Are you going to fund her bakery too?”

Dave grinned. “No. Her baking stays in my kitchen.”

Reid frowned as he thought about that – was something else going on between Rossi and Garcia besides baking? He knew that the older agent had been giving the technical analyst cooking lessons and now he wondered if he wasn’t giving her other lessons as well.

Nothing seemed to be working as far as helping him get his mind off Emily though. He picks up the bourbon, holding it up to the light and looking closely at the amber liquid. It would be easy to drown his sorrows, but then… those other demons would arrive. He considers pouring it down the drain, but the bottle had cost a few bucks and he really didn’t want to waste it in such a manner. Instead, he grabs a brown paper bag and puts the bottle into it. He adds the box of cigars.

“Rossi can have this,” he mutters. He sets the bag by the front door and heads off to bathroom.

An hour and twenty-seven minutes later, he enters the BAU. He places the brown paper bag under his desk and removes his satchel from his shoulder, placing it on the floor as well. He’ll give the brown bag to Rossi later. He settles at his desk and picks up a file.

“Doctor Reid, why are you here so early,” Erin Strauss asks as she enters the BAU.

He sets the file on his desk and stands. “Ma’am?”

She strolls across the bullpen, stopping a few feet away. “I’m sure you heard me, I asked why you were here so early,” she repeats. Her voice a little sharper this time.

“I woke early and wanted to get a start on the day,” he answers. His eyes avoid hers.

She reaches out and lightly grabs his chin turning his face to hers. She eyes him carefully. “I’d say you haven’t slept for a few days at least.”

She drops her hand and he lowers his eyes to her feet. She is wearing jeans and cowboy boots, which intrigues him, she didn’t seem the western wear type.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” she continues. She moves sideways and touches the back of Emily’s chair. “It’s not easy to lose a friend, especially one you work so closely with.”

He tries to speak but the words seem to be stuck in his throat. She looks at him.

“What have you been doing to cope,” she asks gently.

He meets her eyes and freezes. In that moment, he knows that she’s asking if he has taken any drugs, wondering if he has succumbed to his demons.

“I’ve done some things. I tried exercising, yoga, baking…” his voice trails off as the brown bag under his desk catches his eyes. “Nothing seems to be working. I used to read and that would help but I can’t seem to concentrate. Her memory distracts me.”

Strauss nods. She meanders across the aisle, leans against a desk, and crosses her arms. “What you need, is to find a purpose.”

He tilts his head and ponders her response. “Ma’am?”

“All these things you’ve been doing are great for most people, but you’re not most people, Dr. Reid. In order for you to find something fulfilling, you need a purpose,” she points out.

He frowns. “You’re right. I do tend to like doing things when I know I am getting something out of it. But how do I find a purpose?”

She sighs. “I wish I knew that answer.”

“Well, what’s your purpose,” he asks boldly.

She raises an eyebrow at him as the ends of her mouth curl up. “That’s a good question.”

The room goes silent as they both contemplate their lives. Reid lowers himself to the edge of his desk.

“When I was young and fresh out of the academy, all I wanted was to save the world,” she tells him. “I thought I could do anything. That’s what my Dad always told me. He’d say, Erin don’t let anyone tell you, you can’t do something. You have the power to change the world.”

She looks at him. One end of her mouth twists up into a proud smile. “My Dad was a politician. A pretty good one at that even though he never went any higher than city representative. In many ways, he was a weak man. He drank himself to death, died when I was twenty-four.”

“I’m sorry,” Reid says quietly.

“At least I got to know my Dad,” she surmises.

“I know my Dad now, but not very well.”

“We’re very similar you and I,” she tells him. “I’d guess my purpose now is to take care of my children and help make a better world for them and theirs when they have children.”

He nods as he listens to her words. “I keep thinking about…”

“About what,” she prompts.

“If I had been there, could I have helped her? Physically, I’m not that strong,” he points out. “It’s been proven several times, that I’m not very good in a fight. I can barely pass the shooting qualifications.”

“That’s something you can work on,” she suggests. “Practice your shooting, develop a skill you can use, so that if a situation like this ever arises again – you’re prepared.”

“I’m not very good,” he mumbles. “It’s a physical thing.”

“No, it’s not,” she snorts and laughs.

He looks up at her.

“Sure, you have to hold the gun up and pull the trigger, but that’s the only physical part,” she points out. “The rest of it is mental. It’s physics, Dr. Reid. You’ve studied physics, right?”

He frowns at her and nods. “I’ve never looked at it that way before.”

“Come on,” she orders. She stands and heads towards the exit. “Bring your gun.”

He nabs his satchel and chases her out the door.

****

At the range, Spencer stands awkwardly next to Chief Strauss and watches as she decimates the target in front of her. He had never seen her handle a gun before and was quite impressed. Once she holsters her weapon and takes off her headgear, she turns to him and smiles.

“Well,” she asks.

“That was amazing,” he replies. He blinks as he continues to stare at the target. “How did you… Rossi said you were a terrible marksmen.”

“I was,” she agreed. “There’s definitely a reason I didn’t stay in the field very long.”

He looks at her and raises an eyebrow in question. She looks around, it’s still early and they are the only ones on the range, not even the range masters have arrived. Strauss had let them in with her key and turned on the power.

“I meant what I said earlier – it’s not easy to lose a friend. I also meant it when I said we were similar,” she tells him. “I lost a friend in the field. I had the chance to save him. It was in Louisiana, and we were tracking down a suspect in a kidnapping and murder case. We had a lead that the guy was holed up in a warehouse downtown. We went, took the local cops with us as well, Niall, my partner, and I went in first with the SWAT team.”

She pauses and takes a breath. “Niall and I went to the right, to the offices. The SWAT team went out into the warehouse. Somehow, Niall and I got separated. Next thing I hear is a door crashing open and Niall yelling. I tried to follow as best as I could. Once I got outside, I could see them struggling with each other, then Niall yelled out and the suspect pulled back – a bloody knife in his hand.”

“I raised my gun and told him to halt. He looked at me, puffed out his chest then flipped me off and turned to walk away. I froze. I just stood there and watched him go. I knew I was a lousy shot and I was afraid that if I fired, I might hit Niall. By the time the others arrived, the suspect was gone. Niall died on the way to the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry,” Reid murmured.

“The guy was eventually caught. I was taken off the case.” She stops and clears her throat. “It was my last field assignment. The bureau decided that I wasn’t meant to be a field agent. However, I swore that if I was ever in a position like that again, that I would be better prepared. So, I practiced. And one of my husband’s friends introduced me to a weapons expert, Gary Adams. He was a retired Marine, who had trained others and was a sniper in Vietnam.”

“Do you think he could help me,” Reid asked eagerly.

She smiles indulgently. “He died several years ago.”

“Figures,” he mutters.

“I can show you a few things, if you like,” she offers.

“You can do that?”

“I’m no sniper but I did learn a few things,” she smiles.

“I’m sorry, I only meant that you are a busy person…”

“I know,” she nods. “I can make time.”

They spent the next hour talking about the physics of shooting a gun, trajectory, airspeed, velocity of the bullet, angles, etc. until other agents started to file in.

“Let’s meet again tomorrow morning,” Strauss suggests. “I’m guessing you would prefer to keep this between us for now?”

He nods.

“I agree. Is five a.m. too early?”

“Not for me.”

She grins. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bring some practice bullets.”

That night, Spencer lays on his couch, a pile of shooting books surrounds him. Book on his chest, he sleeps soundly and dreams of the day when he can help a friend.

finis


End file.
